


mags n cheese

by kitahart



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Cooking, Found Family, Gen, Hugs, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitahart/pseuds/kitahart
Summary: “Because,my dude, if I catch you warming up one more microwavable TV dinner, my soul is going to physically leave my body.”Personally, Magnus doesn't see the problem with powdered cheese sauce, but whatever this is seems to make Taako happy, genuinely happy in a manner that he rarely gets to see. So it’s worth it, then, even if it means that he has to fumble through the task, even if it means weathering insults that both of them know Taako doesn't really mean.Taako attempts to give cooking lessons. Magnus winds up making the task a little harder than originally anticipated.





	mags n cheese

**Author's Note:**

> i think that i've seen a lot of people talking about magnus cooking headcanons? this is most definitely inspired by a comment travis made a while ago abt taako teaching magnus how to cook, though. anyways here's some dialogue/characterization practice that became an entire fic, somehow.
> 
> also this is a perfectly valid recipe for cooking macaroni and cheese if you plan on fucking up every step of the way.
> 
> (warnings for implied abuse & some internalized ableism.)

Apparently following people around like a second shadow is Taako’s new capital-T Thing, because when Magnus exits his room and heads into the kitchen, Taako slips into step behind him as naturally and quietly as if he’d been there the whole time. Magnus waits for some order or request – despite his culinary talent, Taako has been known to demand food out of whoever’s occupying the kitchen – but he just silently hops onto the counter, feet drumming a steady rhythm against the lower cabinets. Magnus can feel eyes on his back as he moves around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards.

“Aw, dip.”

“What’s up, my man?” 

Magnus sneaks a glance at Taako; he’s lounging on the counter like he owns the place, barefoot and wearing what looks like – are those cat-print pajama leggings? Weird, but _whatever_.

“Nothing, it’s just that someone ate all my food.” He scratches the back of his head, rummages through the top cupboard without expecting to find anything there.

“Wait – food?” There's a hint of a smile to Taako’s voice, a tone that Magnus definitely does not appreciate. “Do you mean those shitty boxes of microwave mac n’ cheese you keep buying? ‘Cause if that's the case, it might've been me. Might've eaten ‘em all at four in the a.m., you know how I roll.”

Magnus… doesn't, really. Taako is full-on laughing now, and Magnus sighs, pulling on his boots. He shouldn't have expected anything less, having two roommates, and it’s not like his day is ruined or anything–

“Hey, wait, where are you going?”

“I dunno, out to get more food, I guess.”

Taako abruptly sits up. “No. Nope. Absolutely not. Get back here.”

Magnus drops his jacket, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay, fine! What do you want with me?”

“Friends don’t let friends eat processed _crap_ , and that shit is terrible, I did you a favor eating it all! Really, it’s a crime against humanity –”

“I caught you down here eating frozen Fantasy Pop Tarts in a bedazzled snuggie last week.”

“I _will not_ stand for this, so!” Taako draws himself into a cross-legged position. “We’re going to make some _good_ mac n’ cheese. Open that cupboard up top.” The last part is added so abruptly that Magnus takes a moment to realize he’s being ordered around, long enough for Taako to roll his eyes and heave a long-suffering sigh.

“We?” Magnus asks good-naturedly, complying with Taako’s instructions.

“Okay, you get to cook, I’ll supervise. Now, grab the pasta up there – the pasta – the _pasta!”_ Taako’s voice grows more and more exasperated as Magnus produces several boxes of noodles. “The one on your left, my dude, holy shit.”

“Is this like, a thing you do? Buy groceries and then stockpile ‘em up here so that we can’t use them?” He sets what seems to be the correct box – based off of a lack of disapproval from Taako’s general direction – on the counter with a thump.

“I mean, if any of you fuckers actually opened up the fridge once in a while, you’d notice that we actually have _quite_ a bit of fresh food that you're welcome to.”

“You threatened to curse me the last time I ate one of your cookies.”

“Maybe I did!” Taako’s grin widens. Aw, hell, he’s _enjoying_ this. “Okay, I’m gonna be generous and assume that you know how to boil water without killing yourself, right? _Please_ say yes.”

Magnus bites back an irritated sigh. “Of course I do, not that you really care that much.” Dishes clatter in the cupboards as he grabs a pot from underneath a large pile. “Wait, why do you care?” Taako doesn't cook for just anyone, and he certainly doesn't give out recipes or instructions ever. At all. 

“ _Because,_ my dude, if I catch you warming up one more microwavable TV dinner, my soul is going to physically leave my body.”

“That’s fair,” Magnus says mildly, turning up the burner on the stove. Taako lunges across the counter and turns it down to what’s apparently a more reasonable level.

“Jeez, you really could burn a pot of water, Merle wasn't lying. Do you need me to, like, walk you through the instructions on the back of the box?”

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Magnus says, dumping the pasta in. It’s not more complicated than that, right? He checks just to make sure. “...Wait, what did Merle say about me?”

“That you nearly burned the base down trying to make grilled cheese in the Fantasy Toaster, but that I shouldn't be mad about it, because you were ‘off being a depressed bastard somewhere’. _”_ Taako’s voice drops an octave in a poor imitation of Merle’s rough cadence during the last bit, and Magnus hides a smile behind his hand. “Okay, now we’re gonna make the cheese shit – don't look at me like that, get the milk from the fridge.”

Personally, Magnus doesn't see the problem with powdered cheese sauce, but whatever this is seems to make Taako happy, genuinely happy in a manner that he rarely gets to see. So it’s worth it, then, even if it means that he has to fumble through the task, even if it means weathering insults that both of them know Taako doesn't really mean.

Taako’s instructions are fast-paced and somewhat chaotic, and Magnus is about halfway through mixing the concoction that he’d been carefully walked through when Taako makes a noise of frustration. “I told you, you gotta make sure that it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan, you're – great, wonderful, you burnt it.”

“Doesn’t look burnt to me.”

“Yeah, my dude, you gotta stir it more! See, now you’ve just created a huge fuckin’ mess, and – Actually, you know what? Never mind.” He hops off the counter and grabs the pan from Magnus’s hands, muttering something under his breath. Magnus assumes it’s a spell, because the mess inside (he guesses it looks a _little_ bit burnt, but still edible) disappears, and the pan is so clean that he can see his own surprised reflection warped on the side.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Start over,” Taako says, shoving the pan back into Magnus’s hands.

“I’ve eaten worse,” he says, checking in on his noodles (the water’s boiling, he’s pretty sure that’s good) before reluctantly obliging, measuring out what he’s pretty sure are the proper amounts of milk and cheese from memory.

“So have I, buddy! Just because we _have_ doesn’t mean we _should!”_ Coming from anyone else, Magnus would assume that this was some sort of motivational bullshit, but it’s about a fifty-fifty chance with Taako, honestly.

He’s right back where he apparently fucked up last time when Taako sidles up beside him, squeezing in between Magnus and the stove. 

“Hang on, big guy, lemme just get in there real quick – Okay, good, so what you wanna be doing is kinda, like…” Taako grabs the spoon over Magnus’s hand and demonstrates some sort of stirring motion.

“Look, you’re asking me to stir a pot of sauce, how complicated can it get?”

“Plenty, apparently. Look, just gimme –” Taako pries Magnus’s fingers off of the spoon to continue stirring by himself, still sandwiched between Magnus and the stove. Apparently he's content to just chill there. “Tell you what, I’ll take care of this stuff, you just sit tight and don't fuck anything up.”

Magnus isn't sure if he should be relieved or affronted. Both? “Hey, you're the one who wanted me to cook for myself, can you honestly say that you're surprised?”

“I mean, I did kinda expect that you’d be self-sufficient, but right now I’m just surprised that you haven't burned the house down yet. Is this just, like, how you _live_? How did you even survive before Merle and me?”

“Uh, I didn't, really?” Magnus hums a little as Taako squeezes himself out of the human/stove trap he’d created. 

“Hang on, your pasta’s pretty much done, but keep going, my man! This I’ve got to hear,” Taako says with a shit-eating grin. Not only does he want to hear it, Magnus realizes, but Merle is almost certainly gonna get a secondhand version of whatever he says later. “Also, keep stirring. _Like I showed you.”_ He absolutely does not remember what that was, but Magnus makes a cursory attempt anyways. If Taako can’t see him fuck up, it didn't happen. 

“Whatever kind of trouble you're imagining I got into, it wasn't that! I was just kind of a st – kind of a shitty kid, yknow? Didn't have the right, uh, attention span, or something? Like, I’d get started on a task, but then just fuck it up real bad. Like now. Directions just don't work for me.”

“Yeah, no shit, homie,” Taako says, setting a casserole dish on the counter with more force than necessary. Still, there's no vitriol in his voice, just a humorous edge.

“Yeah, so. Uh, I mostly didn't cook for myself. And when I married Julia, she, uh. She was like me, neither of us could cook without burning the whole place down. It was, we were made for each other, almost.” And that was the truth. Magnus can still remember how she looked, her face framed in the evening light streaming in through the window as she dragged him out of his chair, keeping him from hyperfocusing on another day of carving. Or: Her face bent over a map as she plotted out yet another point for the revolution, chattering on about a dozen different subjects that Magnus had never heard of, but was more than happy to learn about, especially if it was from her.

“Shit, sorry, dude. If this is like, too sad for you or whatever, we don’t gotta do the whole tragic backstory shit right now. Or ever. Preferably ever!”

Magnus looks up in surprise. “Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you kinda did space out there a little, my man.” Sometime when Magnus wasn't looking, Taako had apparently acquired an onion from the fridge – possibly to add to the sauce? – and he gestures with the hand that isn't holding a knife. Magnus feels something like pride, almost. 

“No, it’s nothing – It’s not a bad thing!” It isn’t, really. Still hurts like hell, but these days, he manages to think about it for longer and longer. “So, to wrap this story up. Steven – uh, that'd be her dad, I guess you could say that he pretty much raised me too – he was the only one in the house who knew how to cook. And he was real patient, tried to teach me some stuff when he had the chance, but. Yeah. And after everything, I really didn't–”

“Oh, good, you really _were_ surviving off of TV dinners ‘till you met us. That’s great to know!”

“I mean, yeah, sorta.” He _doesn't_ really want to think about what he was – or wasn't, rather – doing to survive back then. “What about you, though?”

“Whaddya mean?” The sound of Taako’s knife hitting the cutting board stops for just a second, then resumes. “Oh. Like, where I learned to be this great at – well, at everything, but at cooking?” At Magnus’s noise of assent, he shrugs. “Y’know that this isn't really a, like, sharing thing, right? Like, fuckin’ cool that you wanted to talk about your childhood, or whatever, but I’m, uh – Taako’s good out here.”

“Oh!” Magnus jumps a little, rushing to reassure him. “ Yeah, no problem, I didn't mean to –”

“You're good, homie, just don't do it again.”

Taako has this _thing_ with favors, with not being in debt. Magnus has felt this out cautiously over the years, and, well. Probably why he doesn't want any done for him in the first place, why he just straight-up makes demands: Because anyone nice enough to push past all that fire is at least nice enough to not ask him for anything in return. 

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are the rhythmic chopping of his knife and Magnus’s wooden spoon scraping the bottom of the pot. Then, Taako speaks again. “It’s just a dumb story, really? My aunt taught me how to cook and I extrapolated from there, kinda had to. That's all there is to it!”

“Oh. That's not boring at all!” Magnus is briefly jealous – would’ve been nice to talk to have learned something from his family, after all – but he learned woodworking from Steven, and now he's learning cooking from Taako, and that’s something more, something brighter. 

“I mean, not really something I could write in the book, yknow? It had to be more exciting than that!”

“Wait – you wrote a book?” Magnus nearly drops his spoon, but, at Taako’s death glare, keeps stirring. “Merle mentioned that once or twice, but I figured that he was joking. Did it–” He stifles a smile. “Did it have your face on the cover?”

“Shut up.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, my man, I wrote a _cookbook,_ and plastered my face all over the front. Good for business, y’know? Did a lot for promoting the, the show, and I… and…” Magnus looks over sharply as Taako trails off, his words fading. He’s frozen in place, the blood draining from his face, his grip on the knife tightening.

“Hey,” Magnus says softly, abandoning his pot to skirt around the counter. This doesn't happen often – Magnus gets the idea that Taako is the kind of guy who would rather bury all the shit that’s ever happened to him than get in his head about it – but he’s been present for moments like these a handful of times over the years, and the results are never good.

“Hey, how about you give me that, okay?” Magnus puts his hand over Taako’s, pries his white-knuckled fingers off of the knife handle. Sets it out of reach. “Good! That's good!”

“I, holy _fuck_ , you don't need to – I’m fine!”

“Yeah, I know. Wanna talk about it?”

Taako glares at him and Magnus laughs, opening his arms a little. Not a hug, not quite. Just an open invitation.

With something like a sigh, Taako steps forward, resting his forehead against Magnus’s chest. He doesn't make any move to hug him and Magnus does the same, just allows him to stand there and breathe.

“I just, _fuck,”_ he says eventually, not making a move to look up. “I was doing _so well!”_

“I noticed,” Magnus says.

“No, I – I wasn't thinking about it, I was having a good time, I thought, _hey, I can do this, right?_ _I’ve got this down!_ I don't even know _why_ , unless chopping onions is the hot new trigger now, that's great – just, _fuck!”_ he spits.

“Hey, I dunno if this helps, but! I noticed, and I was super proud. _Am_ super proud, actually! You’re doing really great and I’m – yeah. You did good.”

Taako laughs a little, pressing harder into Magnus’s chest before drawing back, wiping his eyes with the palm of one hand. “I think your sauce is burning,” he says, voice wet. 

Magnus doesn't mention it. “Think you're right.”

He turns the burner off, scrapes the ( _definitely_ burned) mess into the trash, scrubs the pot while Taako watches silently. Eventually, he clears a spot on the counter big enough for Taako to hop back up. He does, watching Magnus root through the fridge again, emerge with ingredients in hand.

“Wait, what're you doing?” he asks, drumming his feet against the cupboards.

Magnus shrugs, flicks on the burner again. “Well, I dunno about you, but I'm thinking about starting over! You don't have to help me or anything like that,” he adds quickly. “Just make sure that I don't burn anything too badly, maybe?”

“...Yeah, sure,” Taako says after a moment, a slow grin breaking across his face. “Let’s try again.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm [punkwixes](punkwixes.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
